Until We Meet Again
by Bryony Honeysuckle
Summary: SEQUEL TO 'BOY MEETS GIRL'. In which sacrifices are made, until we meet again. AU: Fred is not dead. (Cover image: deviantART, AniPokie)
1. I'll wait for you

**This is the Sequel to 'Boy Meets Girl.' New readers: Welcome! Old Readers: Welcome back!**

**I suppose you could read this without reading the first story but I like things to be done in chronological order- don't you?**

**I'm not uploading any more chapters until I've written the rest so you'll have one hiatus rather than several... you know what I'm like. This is merely something to tide y'all over.**

**I hope you all like it, and I'll see you all soon!**

**~BH**

**PS: ComixandCo came up with the name for me because I suck at names- check her out because she's a good egg!**

* * *

**Until we meet again**

August 1997.

_Nobody could be happier. A seventeen year old girl stood on the sidelines and watched as the bride and groom took to the dance floor for the first time. The groom enveloped her into his arms and they slowly swayed to the lilting melodies of the small orchestra. Young girls stood in awe, clutching their parent's legs and questioning if they too could dance like that one day. Older girls stood with envy at the beautiful woman who glided effortlessly across the dance floor with her new husband. _

_Hermione had been thinking about the future a lot lately. She raised her hand to run it through her hair but she realised she had pinned it up into an elegant bun, so there would be little reason to ruin it. She resorted to rubbing her neck, worrying about how she would have to leave all this behind._

_She had promised Harry that he would never be alone. She promised that she would help him destroy the horcruxes and defeat Voldemort. She, Harry and Ron would be leaving everything behind, their past, their families…_

_Their loved ones._

_Hermione thought about Fred. Her boyfriend of over two years now. He was better than she could have ever imagined. He cared for her, he cherished her, and there was no one she would rather be with._

_She couldn't stay with him._

_She had to make that sacrifice for now._

_She thought about her discussion with Harry about the situation._

"_I don't know what to do." She confided in him. "He can't come with us. I can't risk that, you wouldn't risk that, and it would just make Ron angry. I don't know how to let him go."_

"_I know exactly how you feel." Comforted Harry, holding her as she cried. "I love Ginny too. It was for the best." _

_Harry had broken up with Ginny about a month ago, after Dumbledore's funeral. He, like Hermione, also had to sacrifice the one he loved. If either Ginny or Fred were killed because of them, they would never be able to forgive themselves. If anyone understood how Hermione felt, it would be Harry._

"_You need to do it sooner rather than later." Harry told her, not letting her go until she was ready. "Nothing would be worse than having to leave suddenly without a proper goodbye." _

_She nodded, still buried in his chest, knowing she had to surface soon. She was strong. She was brave._

_Her thoughts were interrupted by the very person she needed to see._

"_Hey you." Greeted Fred, hugging her from behind, placing a flower behind her ear. "I've been looking everywhere for you."_

"_I've been looking everywhere for you too." Hermione replied, but for entirely different reasons. Fred just wanted to see her, like he assumed he would for months and years to come. Hermione wanted to say goodbye, maybe goodbye forever._

_Before Hermione could talk, he offered a hand to her to dance._

_One last dance couldn't hurt._

_They joined the crowd of guests, paired off, gazing into each others eyes. They only saw each other's beauty. Fred led them to an empty space and placed his hands gently on her waist, while she slipped her arms around his neck._

"_You look beautiful tonight." he had told her, smiling at her. He was proud to have her, he adored everything about her. _

"_As do you." Hermione replied almost shakily, knowing it was probably the last time she would hear those words leave his lips. _

_They danced in a comfortable silence, the songs getting slightly more melancholy as people drifted away to get drinks, sit down, talk to the newlywed Bill and Fleur._

"_I need to talk to you outside." Fred blurted suddenly._

"_As do I." Hermione responded, fear almost suffocating her._

_She didn't want to do this. _

_She had to do this._

_They walked outside, hand in hand. Onlookers watched the couple, having seen them together over the years. The little girls who wanted to be the bride also wanted to be the girl who was dating the man who had greeted them so cheerfully upon entrance. The girl who was known as The Brightest Witch of Her Age, the girl who was best friends with The Boy Who Lived. _

_The girl who was on the verge of losing the things that meant the most to her._

_Outside, the sky was clear and dark, stars twinkled above them, it was perfect._

_Hermione wished it could stay that way. But it couldn't. Only the memories would remain._

"_Are you okay?" Fred asked her, letting go of her hand and cupping her face._

"_I need to say something." Hermione said, the words barely escaping her lips._

_She didn't want to do this._

"_Go ahead." Fred whispered. What he wanted to say could wait._

"_Harry, Ron and I are leaving." Hermione confessed, trembling more and more with every word she said._

_She didn't want to do this._

"_We're leaving everything behind." She continued. Fred hadn't moved._

"_I have to leave you too." A single tear fell down her cheek._

"_We can still be together." Confirmed Fred, missing the point, not understanding why she was crying. _

"_I have to leave everything." Repeated Hermione. "I have to let everything go. I can't risk staying in contact with anyone." _

_Everything clicked in Fred's mind. She was leaving him. For a long time. Possibly forever._

"_I'll wait for you." He insisted, taking both her hands in his. "You've only got one year of school left, then we can be together, like we've always planned."_

"_I'm not going back to Hogwarts." Hermione said shakily. "We can't. I can't. You can't."_

"_I'll wait for you." Fred repeated, still holding onto her hands, as if he was too scared to let them go in fear that he would never be able to hold them again. _

"_I might not come back." Said Hermione. "I can't be with you anymore. I have to say goodbye."_

"_You don't have to say goodbye." Fred told her fiercely. "Because I love you. You are my everything." His voice sounded more and more desperate the more he spoke._

_She didn't want to do this._

"_I can't be your everything." Hermione answered, more tears falling, like her mood, her mentality._

_She didn't want to do this._

"_I can't." _

"_But Hermione-"_

_Fred's words were stopped by the screams of the people inside the marquee. Fred and Hermione rushed back inside._

_Nobody noticed that they were no longer holding hands._

_A circle had been formed and in the centre was a silvery Lynx. It stood proud and tall._

_It was a patronus._

_The silence was suffocating. No one moved, no one spoke. Hermione frantically searched the crowd for people she knew. She saw Bill and Fleur, standing together, hands entwined. Mrs Weasley was white, Arthur had a calm arm around her, supporting her. Ron and Harry were glancing around the room, like her._

_They all caught each other's gazes._

_They were ready._

"_The ministry has fallen." The lynx announced. It's voice belonged to Kingsley Shacklebolt. "Scrimgeour is dead." It continued. "They are coming."_

_People began to panic. The magical protection around the Weasley residence was broken instantaneously. Deafening cracks pierced the air as people frantically disapparated. _

_Hermione ran._

_She grabbed Ron's hand and they ran for Harry, who was submerged in the crowd._

_The Deatheaters came._

_Bursts of black smoke suddenly appeared from nowhere, the wedding and the celebration was long forgotten._

_Ron and Hermione saw Harry, and fought their way through the people. _

_Flashes of green light erupted everywhere. People collapsed, dead._

_Harry dived towards them, she caught his sleeve, she twisted around on the spot, just catching Fred's gaze before disappearing with a crack not unlike her fellow wedding guests._

_Fred fell to his knees, as if a piece of his soul had been ripped out of him. Tears were shed._

_He saw a glimpse of her elegant hair, her empathetic eyes, her beauty, her everything._

_He had to go._

_George grabbed his wrist and they disapparated together. They were safe._

_So was the engagement ring in his pocket._


	2. Stupid Stupid Stupid

**I'm progressing pretty well, so I'm going to upload another chapter! I don't know when I will upload the next one, but I think as long as I pace the uploads there won't be any long hiatuses! Don't hold me to that though *looks around nervously***

**If you're really desperate I'll update on my profile page what my progress is like so you can check that out so you can have a vague idea or something 0.o**

**I shall love you and leave you, enjoy!**

**~BH**

* * *

New Year's Eve, December 1999

Hermione was alone.

She wanted to celebrate the dawn of a new Millennium, but her heart wasn't in it. She couldn't put her heart into anything.

Since the Battle of Hogwarts, she had been offered numerous jobs in Healing, the Auror office, teaching at Hogwarts itself, but she couldn't.

They'd said that they would always have a place for her wherever she wanted to work. She hated that. She wanted to earn her place, not have it given to her.

What was it that her parents always said? _Nothing is ever given to you on a plate._ Then again, her parents weren't here.

Before she'd left with Harry and Ron, she removed the memories of her parents and sent them to Australia with new identities and vocations. She hadn't gone back for them yet.

She knew it was for the best, but they would never appreciate it. They would feel violated, hurt, upset and angry.

She felt so, so guilty. The guilt was drowning and suffocating her. The guilt was stopping her from going to Australia to get them back, she couldn't face the consequences.

_You're a coward! _She screamed at herself. She slowly rocked back and forth in the corner of her room. Which used to be Fred and George's room.

She thought of Fred. Another person she was guilty about. She had sacrificed him too.

She didn't even give him a decent goodbye. She just left him and saved herself.

She put Harry and Ron before Fred, who was supposed to be her boyfriend, her love.

She'd thrown everything away and now she had nothing.

She thought about recent weeks. While they were out hunting for horcruxes Hermione and Ron started dating. It was a rushed, physical affair. It was more of an experiment if anything: Ron had harboured a crush on Hermione for years and Hermione was lonely and Ron was there.

_Stupid. Stupid. Stupid._

All she did was hurt people.

They decided to break up about a month ago. _It's not working out_. Ron had told her.

The next week he was dating Lavender Brown.

She understood though. She was getting more depressed as the weeks dragged on.

The longer Fred remained unconscious, the more the guilt consumed her.

He had been in a coma since the Battle of Hogwarts. Since the wall crashed onto him. It was supposed to kill him, but he beat all the odds.

He's been sleeping for over a year.

Hermione wanted nothing more than to be unconscious like Fred.

_Some people are dead!_ She scolded herself. _People that didn't want to be dead, or didn't need to die. Wasted lives._

She considered her life wasted,

So did the media.

Articles about her were splashed across the Daily Prophet.

_"The brightest witch of her age is nowhere to be seen"_

_"Wasted brain power: Brightest Witch has become a recluse"_

_"War Hero Woes: The pain is too much for Hermione Granger."_

Time passed and they gave up on her, filling the pages instead with news on Harry's upcoming wedding with Ginny Weasley. They quickly mentioned Fred in the small-print which made Hermione's blood boil.

They couldn't give a damn.

She stopped rocking and shakily stood up, looking at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were dark due to sleepless nights and constant tears, her cheeks were blotchy. Her clothes were ragged and unwashed, her hair unbrushed.

She decided she needed to get a grip. She'd wasted a year crying, suffering, and pushing people away.

She was Hermione Jean Granger, War Hero. Order of Merlin, First Class. The Brightest Witch of Her Age.

Hermione Jean Granger was going to put things right before the Millennium was over.

* * *

An hour later she had showered, her hair was washed, dried and brushed, and she had put on fresh clothes. She was thankful that Fred and George had built an en suite out of their savings just before they moved out. She wondered why they didn't built a better house for the Weasleys instead. She found her wand which she hadn't used in months. She had been too scared. She ran a hand through her soft clean hair and almost smiled, liking the fresh smell.

She put on some shoes and for the first time in ages, walked towards the door intending to leave.

She tried to open the door before she could change her mind and realised it was being stopped by a tray. Mrs Weasley had brought food upstairs again. Normally she ignored it, maybe picking at fruit every few days. Today was going to be different. She sat on the floor outside her room and tentatively tried to eat the bacon she had provided. Her stomach was weak from malnourishment but she persevered. She was making a new start. She heard footsteps. She ignored them. She wasn't going to run away from them. She wasn't going to avoid anyone anymore.

"Hey Hermione." Said the voice belonging to the footsteps as she was joined on the floor.

"Harry." She croaked in greeting. Her voice was rusty and sore.

"It's nice to see you." Harry smiled, watching her slowly eat and glad a little bit of colour was returning to her hollow cheeks.

Hermione smiled a little, her muscles straining. She made eye contact instead which seemed good enough for him.

"Are you coming down to celebrate with us tonight?" Harry asked her. He was always a quiet boy, but had grown into a self assured, caring man. A man who was very concerned about one of his best friends.

Hermione shook her head. She had matters to attend to tonight. She finished eating and stood up, and Harry helped her steady herself. She hadn't left her room since she had broken up with Ron. All the family had tried to coax her out, but they gave up. Only Harry continued to visit her every day. He talked to her through the door, and told her funny stories about things that had happened in the Burrow, at work, in public. He knew she was listening, and that she would come out when she was ready.

Now she was ready.

Harry helped her down the stairs. He didn't know where she was going, or how she was going to get there, but he gave her the space she needed.

She reached the front door.

"Fred." She croaked to Harry, and he nodded, understanding.

She shut the door behind her before she noticed all the Weasley's staring at her with wide eyes.

* * *

She knew she couldn't apparate yet. She didn't have the strength to. She could barely hold her wand, so that stayed in her jeans pocket. She walked until she reached a purely muggle village and hailed a Taxi. She had plenty of muggle money.

"Central London please." She requested, using all the strength she could muster to speak clearly.

"That's a long way lassie." The driver commented, and offered her a fixed fare. She paid him quickly and sat back in the seat and put her seatbelt on.

Not long later she was exactly where she needed to be. She thanked the driver, who gave her a half hearted salute as he drove off, leaving her alone in the middle of a busy London street.

She tried to stifle her tears as she remembered how her and Fred first met in a street unlike this one almost ten years ago. He had saved her life.

What did she do to repay him?

She abandoned him, and now he was almost dying.

She approached the shop window, which she knew was the entrance to St Mungos. She took a deep breath and talked to the Mannequin.

"Ummm..." She cleared her throat, not used to speaking at all. "I'm Hermione Granger, I would like to visit Fred Weasley."

The dummy looked her up and down, and then nodded.

"Hermione Granger." It announced almost robotically, making her shudder. "Come this way."

She stepped carefully into the display, entering the hospital.

After talking to an assistant she was led to a private ward on the fourth floor. Luckily for the Weasley's Fred's room and board for the luxury of his own room was payed for by the Ministry. She wondered if Fred cared.

The assistant led her to the door and stood aside to let her enter, giving her the privacy she craved with him.

The sight of him was heartbreaking.

He was lying motionless on the stiff white bed, his eyes daintily closed, his lips slightly parted. He was placed on his back, his arms and legs arranged perfectly. She tried not to cry.

She took a small sip from the cup of water the assistant gave her on the way to the room and began to speak.

"Fred." She whispered, her voice cracking with pain and heartbreak. "I'm sorry about everything. I didn't want to hurt you." She thought that sounded pitiful.

"I thought it would be for the best, but look at us." Her voice got a little stronger, as if she had been suppressing this for years.

"You haven't woken up in over a year, and I'm... broken. I'm a ruin. I'm a dead woman walking." She hoped there wasn't any other late night guests outside. She assumed they would all be celebrating with the Weasleys.

"I wish I was as strong as you, but every time I've tried to be the War Hero I've been labelled as, my body and mind fail me. I'm nothing but a coward."

She took his hand gently, and memories came flooding back from when she never used to let go of it. _Stupid, stupid, stupid._

"I'm sorry. I wish I could take everything back. If I wasn't here it would be so much easier for everyone."

She used her other hand to run it through his hair, like she always used to. You could tell Mrs Weasley placed cleaning charms on him when he visited because he was the cleanest and nicest smelling patient there. She still had hope.

"I am here though." She announced to the unconscious body she was holding. "I have to live. You have to live. We have to live for each other. A new millennium is here, and I'm making a fresh start. I..." She started stammering, tears flowing freely, she never let go of his hand.

"I love you." She told him, not for the first time, and hopefully not the last time.

She would change for him. She would forget the past few months for him.

She would fight for him.

She continued to hold his hand until the bells chimed for New Year. The hospital erupted in song and celebration, but Fred remained silent.

Eventually she left, not knowing George was watching her the whole time.

It was time for new beginnings.


	3. Baby Steps

**I keep saying that I'm not going to update until I've written the whole story but then I can't resist! Oh well, I'm going on holiday next weekend so I won't be updating at all then probably! I'm not planning on taking my laptop with me...**

**Hope you enjoy, and in response to fandomsh*t's review... I'm saying nothing. However take into account the first story... *cackles evilly***

**LOVE YOU ALL!**

**~BH**

* * *

**Baby Steps**

Hermione opened her bedroom door to find Harry holding her tray.

"Hey." He greeted kindly. "We're not eating outside your door today."

She hadn't spoken to most of the Weasleys in months. She wasn't ready for this. Every bone in her body was screaming at her to turn around and shut the door in his face.

But Harry had been so good to her. He'd sat with her outside her room for the past two weeks, talking to her and helping her ease back out of her guarded shell. She mainly listened, and picked at her food while Harry continued to tell her the tales he would have told her outside her bedroom door, whether she was there or not.

He was glad he could finally talk to a face a not to a door.

She was gradually improving, she was no longer as pale and sickly, although she was still dangerously thin. She suddenly started taking better care of her self since New Year, and Harry was happy to see her true natural beauty shining through again. She smelled fresh and she had started taking her clothes downstairs to wash instead of leaving them outside the door. She took care to bring them down when everyone was sleeping though, she still couldn't face the other Weasleys yet. Harry understood, and he insisted that Mrs Weasley understood too. He explained on her behalf that she was improving and that she appreciated her patience, which she did. She could never thank the Weasleys and Harry enough.

She still needed time.

"It's just you... Right?" She asked, doing her best not to panic.

"Yes, it's just me." Laughed Harry, putting her more at ease. "You can't hide from them forever though!"

He was right. Despite that, She couldn't face them today.

He led the way to Ron's bedroom. He told her he was out with Lavender Brown and wouldn't be back until the afternoon at least.

"Why are we having breakfast here?" Hermione asked, wondering how the bright orange of Ron's room would be any better than the calm darkness of the corridor outside her own room. If anything, it just made her a little queasy.

"I thought you could do with a change of scenery." Replied Harry instantly. "Don't worry, no one will interrupt us!" he assured her quickly, noting the frightened expression that flashed across her face. "We are taking baby steps." Harry told her. Hermione's shoulders relaxed at his choice of words.

"_We are taking baby steps." _Repeated in her brain like a mantra.

She wasn't alone.

* * *

The next few days were spent eating breakfast in Ron's room instead of her own. Today Ron was going to join them for the first time.

Hermione was nervous. Nauseatingly nervous. She had missed him, especially his friendship. He was the complete opposite to her, which was what made their relationship fail, but their friendship remain stronger than ever.

Harry assured her that everything would be okay when they sat down on Ron's bedroom floor at their usual time. Molly had provided her usual tray, which now contained Harry's breakfast as well since he had continued to eat with her.

"I'm nervous Harry." She confessed, still surprised her voice remained. Since she had ventured outside the confines of her bedroom Harry had been trying to encourage her to talk often, with varying amounts of success. Harry had to choose his words very carefully because the slightest mention of Fred or her parents or the war made her dash into her room and abandon him and her food. Harry had noticed though that she was recoiling less and less at the mention of those trigger words, and even though it was hard work, he was progressing. As much as he loved Ginny, he also loved his best friend, and Ginny knew he was the only one capable of bringing the old Hermione back. She secretly thought that it was a good thing for him, because now he wasn't thwarting Voldemort he had nothing like that to keep him busy, and Hermione was a challenging task.

They started chatting comfortably for a while, Harry sitting back and letting Hermione talk about her feelings while he ate a bowl of cereal.

"I'm thinking about getting a job." said Hermione, making herself a bacon sandwich and pouring herself some orange juice.

"That's great!" said Harry, almost over enthusiastically and nearly dropping his spoon. "That's fantastic! What do you want to do?"

"That's the thing," Replied Hermione, glad to get it off her chest. She had been starting to ask Harry for advice on things too, little things like when she should visit Fred and if she was ready to talk to the family again. It was almost like Harry was her councillor. Harry himself had suggested that she saw someone more qualified but she quickly dismissed it, saying that she didn't want the media to see her and start publishing lies.

She wondered what they thought of her? Insane? Depressed? Broken? Ruined? She hadn't heard an article about her in about six months. Harry used to read articles from the Daily Prophet to her through the door.

"I don't think I want to pursue a career just yet." Continued Hermione, stopping her train of thought to confide in Harry. "I can barely leave the house without getting anxious. I just want something simple and easy going."

"Like a shop?" Harry suggested, drinking his coffee and wondering when Ron was going to arrive.

"Yes, that might be good." Hermione approved, thinking about what was in Diagon Alley.

"What about Weasley's Wizard Wheezes?" Harry wondered, before immediately regretting it. Hermione stopped eating, and tears started filling her eyes.

"George will probably never forgive me." Hermione whispered. "If I hadn't left Fred…"

"Hermione!" Harry said, exasperated. He quickly put an arm around her as she started shaking uncontrollably. "Easy now, easy…" He repeated. This was routine to him. "Breathe, it's okay, you don't have to do anything you don't want to do, I'm here."

She started to relax again, and Harry noticed she was calming down quicker and quicker each time. He hoped that soon she would stop panicking about the littler things altogether.

"Fred's… condition… is not your fault." Said Harry. "It would have happened whether you were with him or not."

Hermione processed this information, steadily taking more food after her outburst. Maybe if she patched things up with George it would help her recover… she could be whole again…

"I'll think about the job." Confirmed Hermione, putting down her plate. Next thing she knew, she had another fear to overcome.

The door opened and Ron Weasley entered, carrying three muffins.

He was as tall as ever, his flaming red hair identical to his six siblings drifted across his forehead in a sweeping wave, whilst the rest of it was cut short at the back. He wore casual clothes, as it was the weekend according to Harry, and his eyes were bleary as if he had only recently returned home.

"Chocolate chip for me," He told them in form of greeting, joining them on the floor. "Blueberry for you," he gave one to Harry. "And I believe red velvet was always your favourite Hermione?"

She nodded, her mouth quirking upwards a little as she took the muffin from him. She whispered her thanks before taking a small bite, touched that he had remembered. It tasted as delicious as she had remembered.

"Hey Ron." Greeted Harry. "Thanks for the muffins!"

"No problem." Ron replied. "Mum made them earlier."

Ron and Harry talked amongst themselves whilst Hermione listened, eating her muffin and watching them both. They both looked… happy. She remembered a time when it was always her that was looking after them, making sure they weren't breaking the rules or lending them homework at the last minute.

Oh, how the tables had turned.

"So how are you then Hermione?" Ron asked, turning towards her abruptly, making her jump. Harry glanced at her with concern, but said nothing, wondering how she would respond.

"I'm okay." Hermione replied quietly, ignoring Harry and her nerves. "Yes," she confirmed. "I'm okay."

Harry grinned at her encouragingly. Ron smiled at her too, not quite understanding why she didn't smile back. Harry had warned him about her problems but he didn't realise she was that… _broken._

Was it because of him? He thought, running a hand through his hair like Harry often did. He remembered how she had found out about Lavender and rushed up to her room, not crying, not saying anything at all.

She hadn't left her room since then.

Ron knew she was grieving ever since the Battle of Hogwarts. He knew that it was Fred she truly loved, and not him. Therefore he knew it was best to end things with her before he was in too deep.

He didn't have any idea what the consequences could be.

Eventually, about midmorning, Harry picked up the tray and Hermione stood up. She was no longer shaking, but she took it slowly, carefully, as if she was a china doll. Ron watched her actions like a child waiting for his turn on the swings.

"_Baby steps_" Hermione repeated to herself as she managed to say goodbye to Ron and Harry and retreated to her room again.

She decided to make amends with George.

One step at a time.


	4. Comfort Zones

**Here's another chapter. Enjoy. I need to stop procrastinating and practice, I've got a clarinet lesson in two hours.**

**~BH**

* * *

Comfort Zones

A month later, Hermione was comfortably eating two square meals with Harry and Ron, and had managed to talk to Mrs Weasley too.

She had sprinted downstairs with her washing while everyone was asleep, as usual, and Mrs Weasley had gone downstairs to pour herself a glass of water.

Mrs Weasley heard the footsteps as she entered the kitchen and panicked. She was sure she had put up the usual night time protective barriers over the house, and the only people who could probably penetrate them were... deatheaters.

Not one to cower away in a crisis, she drew her wand and followed the sounds.

Her red hair fanned out around her face like a mane, and when Hermione saw her silhouette enter the washroom she squeaked and retreated into a corner, violently shaking. Harry had told her that she would be reintroduced to the family one at a time. Ginny would be next in the morning.

Mrs Weasley lowered her wand as she noticed the shaking girl with bushy brown hair, surrounded by her own dirty washing.

"Hermione?" She asked, not moving closer, in fear of distressing her further.

Hermione looked up, frightened.

_How had she been reduced to this?_

"Mrs Weasley." Hermione said, trying to get rid of the shakiness in her voice.

"It's okay dear." Mrs Weasley apologised. "I had my wand out because I thought someone suspicious had penetrated the protective wards. I'm really sorry if I frightened you!"

Hermione inched out of the corner slowly, feeling slightly reassured. Maybe if she talked to Mrs Weasley now it would be one less person to overcome.

"I'm sorry about everything." Hermione whispered shakily, taking a deep breath and preparing for the worst. "I'm sorry for making you guys run around after me, and feed me, when I was doing nothing to contribute…"

"Hermione dear!" Mrs Weasley cried, approaching her more slowly than she would have liked and enveloping her in a hug. "It's okay. I know this past year has been hard on you. It's been hard on all of us. Everyone copes in different ways."

Hermione froze at Mrs Weasley's embrace, unused to any affection other than Harry's. It was almost a hug like her own mother's. Stifling the demons inside her, she returned the hug slowly. Mrs Weasley beamed.

"Harry told me you've been eating with him and Ron now." She commented, looking her up and down and groaning on the inside about her weight. "You look like a sparrow dear, when you're ready you should eat downstairs so I can keep an eye on your portions."

After eating very little for two months it was a struggle to keep more than one meal down.

"Sure, Mrs Weasley." Hermione accepted quietly. She promised herself to run it by Harry tomorrow, before Ginny arrived. They both got up, exhausted, and walked up the stairs together, parting ways at their separate rooms.

"I hope to see you soon Hermione." Mrs Weasley smiled gently. "And call me Molly."

Hermione nodded before returning to her sanctuary.

She couldn't sleep after two hours of trying, and now the sun was poking up behind the hills. She gave up and decided to tidy her room. Clothes were sprawled everywhere and her beaded bag lay at the centre of it, from where she had pulled things out and not returned them. She decided to take everything out of the bag and organise it in the room. At least if she moved away or got kicked out she could just putt all back in.

She was still avoiding using her wand. She hadn't forgotten anything about magic, she was just scared. The memories. The mistakes. It lay innocently on her bed from where she had been holding it the night before, just examining it.

It was high time that she actually began to use it again.

She plucked it from it's resting place on her bed and pointed it at a pile of books at her feet.

"Wingardium Leviosa" she said aloud, and watched in wonder as the books steadily rose into the air.

_She hadn't quite lost it yet._

She laughed out loud as she continued to send objects flying around the room. She remembered vividly the first time she did this in her room many years ago. It was just as wonderful. She remembered how Fred looked at her with pride whenever she would casually perform advanced magic.

She was on her own now.

* * *

A few hours later there was a knock on her door. By then she had showered and dressed, feeling much better now everything was organised. She opened the door wide which surprised Harry.

"You've been busy!" Harry commented, looking over her shoulder and glancing around the room.

"I couldn't sleep after I ran into Mrs Weasley." replied Hermione softly, still uneasy about calling her Molly like she had suggested.

"You ran into Mum?" piped up Ron, who was on his way up but stopped at the door. "How did it go?"

"Better than I expected. Everyone's been so supportive." She told Ron. She had noticed how Ron had grown up a lot since the war. He wasn't as tactless and he wasn't as harsh either.

Together they trooped upstairs. Harry watched Hermione as she talked to Ron. She was still dangerously thin and her smile didn't quite reach her eyes, but her confidence was returning and she was carrying her wand.

Like when Ron first joined the little gathering, they let Hermione settle in for a while before Ginny entered. She hadn't changed since before the war, but her eyes told a different story.

"You're back among us! About time!" Ginny greeted Hermione, before sitting down next to Harry. Hermione glanced at her weakly. Ginny wasn't going to be very sympathetic, she could tell.

Harry also looked uncomfortable. "Hey Ginny." He greeted, running a hand through his hair.

Hermione wanted to show she was using magic so she conjured a blue flame silently in her hand, suppressing the memory of Fred teaching her the spell. She thought about visiting him that day.

Holding a slice of bread over her hand to toast it, she looked up to see Harry, Ron and Ginny staring at her open mouthed.

"What? Have you never seen me do magic before?" Hermione asked them. Ginny quickly shut her mouth.

"Hermione!" Harry said, somewhat awestruck. It was weird that only a month ago she couldn't even leave her bedroom.

Ron put an arm around her, which pleasantly surprised her. "Welcome back Hermione!"

Ginny was confused. "Why are you making such a big deal about this? She never left!"

Harry raised an eyebrow at her, not sure if she was being sarcastic or really sweet.

"Uh Ginny," Harry started awkwardly. "This is the same person who wouldn't leave her room, and wouldn't speak to anyone."

Ron nodded in agreement, with his arm still around Hermione. Hermione stayed silent, Ginny was right in a way, but it was still a little upsetting.

"It's about time you got a grip of yourself!" Ginny exclaimed, not viciously, but not kind either. She was fed up of Harry spending all his time with Hermione, and although she wasn't jealous, she felt like Hermione had spiralled out of control since the war and maybe giving her a reality check would help. She knew Harry would never agree so she took matters in her own hands.

"I'm sorry Ginny." Hermione replied, not sounding very apologetic. "I'm sorry the love of your life is in a coma and you never got to say a proper goodbye, I'm sorry that you got tortured by people you knew just because of your parents. Speaking of parents, I'm sorry you had to send yours away and remove their memories to guarantee their safety, because they wouldn't know what was going on and you definitely wouldn't want to be killed. I'm just sorry, okay."

Abandoning her toast, which was now burned out of anger and guilt, she got up and walked out of the room, shaking and on the verge of tears. She felt like a weight had been removed from her shoulders, that her voice had finally been heard. They finally knew what was suppressing her.

"Nice one Ginny." Ron hissed at her, looking at Harry for backing up.

"I hope she's okay..." Trailed off Harry.

"Don't you see?" Ginny tried to explain, exasperated. "She needs to see that her coping mechanism ISN'T HEALTHY. She needs a kick up the behind to realise that anyone, especially Fred, wants her to be like this. She's had enough sympathy, she needs help."

Hermione could hear her in the corridor, and stopped to listen.

"That's what I've been trying to do!" Argued Harry, rubbing his nose in frustration. "We'll be back to square one now before you know it."

"Oh my god, Harry." Ginny retorted. "You can't just let her wallow in her self pity! She needs to get out, get a job, move on! Then she'll recover, not just by introducing people in gently one by one, then she'll get too comfortable! We need to push her out of her comfort zone."

This pushed Hermione over the edge. She was going to go out of her comfort zone.

She was going to get a job.

Today.


	5. Looking Up

**Hello! I know it's been a little while, I'm currently on holiday and I've been working on another one shot that will be up at the end of this month! You can probably work out what it is... if not, mwahahaha you'll have to wait and see!**

**I'll be back to writing on this soon, but I've got lots of summer work to do so I'll try and find a balance, maybe, probably not. BUT THE THOUGHT IS THERE.**

**~BH**

* * *

Looking up

Hermione was stood at the entrance to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. She was a little nervous, but she would rather force herself out of her comfort zone than have someone else push her out.

She wasn't one to be ordered around, no matter how emotional and broken events had made her.

She pushed the door open slowly, to find the shop very quiet. She had forgotten that most children were in Hogwarts and in addition most adults were in work.

George looked up, noticing the bell jingle at the entrance, and was astounded to see Hermione of all people stepping over the threshold. He wasn't sure whether to be angry with her or happy that she had finally left his old room. At least she was alive.

Then again, he was there when Hermione visited Fred that night on New Year. He saw her tearstained face, how terrible she felt. He saw how much it pained her to see him lying there, while she was alive.

He could relate to that, therefore he didn't want to hurt her further. Besides, what would Fred say? He would be ashamed of him.

Hermione picked her way through the many aisles and make her way to the till where George was sat on a stool. After he saw Hermione enter he quickly got back to his work, as if he hadn't noticed her. He didn't want to make her feel any more uncomfortable.

"George?" she asked.

He looked up.

"Hermione." he acknowledged, putting his quill down and moving out from behind the desk.

"Um…" she stalled, trying to form sentences in her mind. "How are you?"

She immediately thought it was a stupid thing to ask.

"Not bad." He dismissed, pushing his ginger hair out of his face. "You?"

"I'm okay." Hermione muttered in response. She noticed how much more withdrawn George was. He was always the more quiet, sensible twin but she was pretty sure he hadn't cracked a joke since 1998. It was quite ironic since he worked in a joke shop.

"I'm sorry about everything." She said before he could say anything. He wasn't sure if there was anything TO say. "I'm sorry about Fred, about how I reacted, how you've had to pick up the pieces, how you've been working your butt off while I've been moping…"

"Hermione." George stopped her babbling. She immediately fell silent and braced herself for more cutting words from another Weasley. "Everyone copes with things in different ways. I just threw myself into my work because it had to be done. Also I have 5 other siblings who would be onto me straight away if I suddenly stopped being myself…" He saw Hermione's face fall and checked himself.

"Come here." He said, beckoning her and giving her a hug.

Hermione sighed. She knew this was George, but he felt almost like Fred. It comforted her and hurt her at the same time.

"You're not alone, you know that, right? You've got Harry, Ron, Ginny, Mum, me, all the family. We are your family." He let her go and she nodded, stifling tears. George would understand how she felt more than anyone.

"So, what brings you here anyway?" He asked, changing subject smoothly. Hermione was glad he didn't let the silence linger.

"I was wondering... If you were hiring?" She asked in return tentatively, rubbing her arm.

"Well, since you're asking, the more the merrier really!" Replied George, smiling. "It's just me and Verity these days."

As if he had called her, a girl which Hermione assumed was Verity walked over. She looked as if she had barely left Hogwarts. Her hair was blonde and short, and stuck out in every direction possible. She was quite short as well and looked very mischievous.

"This is Verity." George introduced her, hugging her to him and ruffling her hair. "Verity, this is Hermione, she's joining us in the shop."

"Hermione Granger?" She smiled looking her up and down. "Harry Potter's best friend? The Brightest Witch of her age?"

"Something like that." Hermione replied quietly, embarrassed. She shook Verity's hand and remained silent. She wondered if that's all people knew her as these days.

"I'm just going to finish what I'm doing and then break?" Verity asked George, stepping away from him.

"Sure." He permitted. "As long as you make us all coffee, you know my order. Hermione would you like anything?"

"Can I just have some water please?" She asked shyly, not used to seeing so many different people in one day.

"Yeah of course!" Grinned Verity before scampering away to the other end of the store.

"She's a good egg." Commented George, watching her leave. "Anyway," he continued, turning to face her. "When do you want to start? You could just hang around and watch what goes on today, get a feel for the place... and then start tomorrow?"

"That would be fantastic." Replied Hermione, nodding her approval. It still pained her to smile but things were looking up.

* * *

A few hours later Hermione was back in Fred's hospital room. The nurses had told her that nothing had changed, but he was still alive. They were going to set him up for tests soon if he didn't recover naturally in a few weeks. They'd performed some basic investigations but it was a mystery as to what was keeping him unconscious. Not even the most intelligent healers knew.

"Hi Fred." She greeted him, even though she wasn't sure if he could hear her. She took his hand, and noticed how his heart rate was increasing slightly. She shook it off as nothing and continued to talk to him.

"I got a job at your's and George's shop today. Remember when you first got the building? When we played Monopoly with Dumbledore the night before you confirmed it, and Dumbledore and I won? That was fun. You were so happy when you got it... I could tell it meant everything to you..." She stopped for a second to wipe her eyes, letting go of his hand. She saw his heart rate drop again. _Is that a sign?_

Still looking at the monitor, she held his hand again, and watched the rate increase again, let it go and saw it drop. She moved her hand and touched his face, and his hair. The rate increased a little bit more. She wanted to kiss him, to see what that would do, but would it be right kissing an unconscious body? Hermione remembered how she drunk a ridiculous amount of Fire whiskey that one time in the Room of Requirement and Fred refused her advances, even though he wanted to. But was this the same thing?

She looked around to check no one was about to enter, and repositioned her chair. She kept an eye on the heart rate as she slowly lowered her lips to Fred's and kissed him.

It was a quick, but meaningful kiss, but it must have meant something to him. The heart rate was on the verge of soaring when she stopped. She let go of him completely, not wanting nurses to come running due to his rocketing heart rate. She looked at him longingly, tears slowly dripping down her face as she wished with all her might for him to kiss her back, for her to be back in his arms, for them both to be safe and happy.

She stayed there until his heart rate returned to normal, and then took his hand again. She felt the callouses from all those years playing Quidditch and gripping a baseball bat. She could feel the muscles in his hands, limp from lack of use. She wanted him to be strong again, so she could feel truly whole again.

_You're getting there, Fred. _She thought. _We will break through._


	6. The Unknown

**Hello from Cornwall! I'm here until Saturday, and have been since last Saturday, and the internet is a bit squiffy, so I apologise! I have been writing though, and in response to Fandomsh*t again, you've given me an idea, thanks ;-)**

**I'll see y'all soon, thanks for your support!**

**~BH**

* * *

The Unknown

_Hermione? Is that you?_

Fred swore he could hear her. It was distant, like she was on the other side of a Quidditch field and he was tied to the ground, unable to reach her. He wanted to reach her so badly. He also wanted to play Quidditch, but he wanted Hermione more.

Then she touched him, and he felt it.

He swore he felt her hand on his face. It was wonderful.

_Why are you here Hermione? Don't you have better things to do than comfort an unconscious body?_

He said he would always wait for her, and now the tables had turned. He wanted to just wake up life Hermione off her feet, kiss her and hug her to make up for the lost time.

He tried to remember what had happened during the battle. He had been reunited with Harry, Ron, Hermione and Percy. Hermione couldn't look at him, she felt uncomfortable, guilty, _scared. _Somebody must have done something terrible for her to feel scared. She was so bold and fearless.

_What changed?_

He felt like he had missed a huge chunk of his life. A huge chunk of her life. A huge chunk... of life.

He felt it when that wall exploded, and it hurt. He heard Hermione's scream, Percy's roar, Ron's growl. Harry had his work cut out restraining both of them, who were desperate to avenge what they thought was their dead brother. Hermione took the opportunity to hold him close one last time. He felt her hold him, rocking back and forth and crying. She kissed him all over his face, and then the last thing he could remember was Harry hiding him in a crook in the wall before running off to be the hero, Ron and Hermione trailing in his wake.

_Wait for me... _Hermione had called.

Oh, the irony.

He had tried to open his eyes but something was pulling him back. It was like he was walking along a road and someone kept pushing him backwards, time and time again.

It was exhausting.

He missed Hermione so much. He had never felt more isolated in his life. He remembered one time when he was 7, and George managed to catch Spattergroit and he didn't- which was unusual because they never left each other's sides. George was forced into quarantine and Fred had spent a week without him.

This was nothing compared to that.

_Is George okay?_

Guilt washed over him like a tidal wave, almost drowning him in shame.

_Why wasn't he strong enough?_

All these people he had left behind. Hermione, George, his mother and father, his other siblings, Harry, Lee, his friends. He didn't know how they were coping. He couldn't comfort them by just waking up.

He did feel slightly comforted by Hermione's visits. Knowing that she was still there, waiting for him. Even though they had broken up, he knew she hadn't let him go.

They had too much to lose.

He figured he was in a coma, but he swore it wasn't an ordinary coma. He was strong, he should have been awake a long time ago. His injuries from the wall were long healed, but his mind wasn't.

All he could think of was Hermione, and what was stopping him from being with Hermione.

Maybe he was cursed?

He was abandoned while the war was won, maybe someone attacked him just to make sure he didn't wake up? He didn't doubt that a Deatheater would do something as vile as that. He was fully unconscious until he arrived in the hospital. From what he knew, he was in a hospital. He couldn't see or hear or feel anything outside is own mind.

He could be tied to the ground of a Quidditch pitch for all he knew.

He wanted to wake up so, so badly. He couldn't carry on living like this, trapped in his own thoughts. How much more of this isolation could he take? If only he could hear what was going on outside. He wished he knew everything Hermione was saying to him when she visited. He knew she came, and he was pretty sure he could hear his mother too. He could feel their presence, especially Hermione's and George's.

He missed George just as much as he missed Hermione. He remembered all the times they had pranked Ron, pranked Percy, pranked the school... They were a team. He couldn't imagine life without George, he couldn't understand how some twins couldn't stand to be around each other. He couldn't quite comprehend how Parvati and Padma Patil, who were also identical twins, managed to reside in different houses during Hogwarts. Didn't Harry say one time that if you really wanted to be in a house you could ask for it? Why didn't Padma ask to be in Gryffindor? Or Pavarti Ravenclaw? Strange…

Girls are ridiculously confusing anyway.

Fred spent most of his time brooding about his past twenty years of living, for he had nothing but his own thoughts. He spent quite some time unconscious after hours of fighting against the strange force holding him back.

Sometimes, he felt cracks, as if he was finally breaking through, that he would one day wake up. The first thing he wanted to do was hug George and Hermione, and catch up on everything he missed, armed with enough food to fill seventy houses. Then he would consider showering.

Sometimes he could snatch small snippets of speech.

"I've been putting cleaning spells on him..."

"I love you..."

"You're an absolute arse..."

"Fred?"

"I'm still waiting..."

"Take your time, pea brain."

Lots of sobbing ensued, although he was pretty sure none of the tears came from George.

He thought about what post-war life was like for all the war heroes. He wondered if they had been awarded Orders of Merlin, or if they were constantly bombarded by the media, or if Hermione had had to capture Rita Skeeter again, or if Harry and Ginny were back together...

There was so much he didn't know, or wouldn't know...

He had to wake up.

For Hermione,

For George,

And most importantly, for himself.


	7. Getting a Job

**Surprise! A new chapter at a stupid time in the morning! This will really mess up my stats.**

**For all of you who have read Remembering Birthdays, I'm uploading something later (at a more normal hour) that y'all might like! If you haven't, you can check it out which would be super cool and you can still read the new thing anyway! Yay!**

**Also, I have an idea for a new completely unrelated fanfiction that I won't start until I've finished this and my Animal Crossing Collaboration project- check out the poll on my profile and if you could help me out by expressing your opinion that would be super cool too!**

**Thank you for your support, follows, favourites and reviews, I really appreciate it and it does spur me on!**

**~BH**

* * *

Getting a Job

Hermione returned home to find Ginny waiting for her in the garden.

"Let's go for a walk." She said immediately, in a tone of voice that was not to be ignored. Being the youngest Weasley, she had developed a tone of voice that was deadly in order to get her opinions heard over six boys. Sometimes this made her too harsh, but most of the time her words were exactly what you needed to get a grip on yourself if you were being over dramatic or were overthinking. These were two things that Hermione did very often, especially recently.

Therefore she nodded and followed Ginny.

"I'm sorry I was so harsh on you earlier. I just want you to be happy again, and you needed some sense knocked into you. Harry was almost wrapping you in cotton wool I swear, ugh." She said as they walked,

"Harry's done a lot for me." Hermione replied quietly. "If it wasn't for him I'd probably still be in my room right now."

"I guess." Said Ginny. "Ron and Harry are really worried about you. We thought you'd gotten lost or something."

"Just because I had a rough few months doesn't mean I've lost all my bearings!" Exclaimed Hermione. "I just went to see George and got myself a job and then visited Fred in the hospital."

"Good for you!" Responded Ginny genuinely. "I'm glad to hear it!"

"Thanks." Said Hermione, accepting a hug from the other girl before they went inside. Mrs Weasley was making food and almost jumped when she saw both girls enter. Hermione was glad the conversation was quick and that Mrs Weasley would stop Ginny for saying anything more.

"Hermione! How lovely to see you!" Greeted Mrs Weasley, embracing her quickly before returning to her cooking.

"Hi Mrs Weasley." Replied Hermione, raising her eyebrows as Ginny yelled jokingly "I'm here too!"

Harry and Ron, hearing the noise downstairs, trooped down to the kitchen.

"Hermione! You're back!" Ron exclaimed, also ignoring Ginny and rushing straight to Hermione. By the time Harry had also approached her she was starting to get a little overwhelmed.

"Ginny's here too." Hermione noted, nodding to the now irritated woman standing next to her.

"We thought you'd done something stupid!" Said Harry bluntly, hugging Ginny and kissing her forehead. She blushed a little and nestled into his chest. Like when she was a little girl, attention from Harry still made her weak at the knees.

"I just got myself a job that's all." Replied Hermione, glancing at Harry and Ron weakly.

"You got a job?" Interrupted Mrs Weasley, who had now finished preparing the food and left it to cook on it's own.

"Yeah, at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes." Hermione told her, wringing her hands uncomfortably.

"That's lovely dear!" Praised Mrs Weasley. "George could do with the company. That Verity girl is a bit young for him to be hanging around with all the time..." She turned back to her cooking as one of the pots had started to boil over. She frantically waved her wand at it, muttering to herself about "kids these days".

"Well, that just happened." Commented Ron, raising his eyebrows and leading the others out of the kitchen.

* * *

The next day Hermione arrived early at the shop. She wasn't sure if there was a dress code and forgot to ask, so in her panic she shoved a variety of different outfits into her infamous beaded bag. She was surprised to see many people shopping and passing through the long cobbled street, possibly on their way to work. It all went wrong when a small child spotted her bushy hair.

"Mummy!" The child whispered, tugging on her mother's hand. "Is that Hermione Granger?"

"Yes it is." Replied the mother, trying unsuccessfully to pull her along. "Don't interrupt her, she's probably busy."

Maybe she should get a haircut?

Hermione was grateful for the mother's words, and glanced at her appreciatively. The mother caught her gaze and nodded before guiding her child towards the Leaky Cauldron.

Other times, she wasn't so lucky.

She was out of breath by the time she'd reached Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. She dashed through the door and stopped to catch her breath, trying to compose herself before she met George.

"Hermione?" Called George, who spotted her enter much to her dismay. As he got closer he saw her worked up expression. "What happened? Are you okay?"

"People recognised me." Explained Hermjone in between breaths. "I got overwhelmed. I ran. God only knows what the Daily Prophet will say, they haven't seen me in ages." She wasn't sure now if she was breathless due to anxiety or the running.

Verity was working over the other side of the shop, she was about to come over but George held up a hand.

"It's going to happen for a while, you haven't been out, people must have been surprised to see you!" George told her, rubbing her back gently to help her relax.

"I guess I brought it upon myself then." Hermione concluded, relaxing a little, wishing she had never holed herself up in her room for two months.

"A little." Admitted George. "However it doesn't mean it's right that they should bombard you with questions and make you feel uncomfortable, you shouldn't do that to anyone."

Hermione felt a little more reassured as he patted her on the back and led her into the shop. "We don't open for another half an hour. Verity is being a star and sorting out some stock, so I have some time to show you around." He winked at Verity, who grinned back and waved to Hermione. She noticed how George winked just like Fred. Sighing, she followed George through the many wonderful aisles.

"I've always admired your products..." Hermione said to no one in particular, gazing at the displays as she walked past.

"Good." Replied George. "Because staff get them for free!" He laughed and stopped at the till. "This is where you'll be taking money from our wonderful customers. On a quiet day I bring my admin and research work out here or if Verity is on a break. She likes greeting customers and showing people around so she tends to hang around near the entrance. You can do whatever makes you comfortable."

Hermione nodded, absorbing the information. Working here would still require skills and rules, she noted. They also had a set routine that she would have to fit in to and work around.

He walked on, jolting her out of her thoughts. Down there is the Defence Against the Dark Arts department, we did have the muggle stuff back there too but we figured we'll keep all the ministry stuff together. The Muggle department is now over there." He pointed over to a modest set of shelves near where Verity was working.

She looked over, thinking about how much her parents would love it here, and then squashed down all those thoughts so she didn't have a breakdown on the first day of work.

He then led her upstairs, which was what she was most excited about because she had never been up there before. Up there was a door leading to what she thought was his flat, a room with piles of new stock, and a room with what looked like smoke coming out of it.

"So in there is my flat, the storeroom, and... Merlin's beard! The Nosebleed Nougat is done!" He exclaimed almost in a panic, dashing into the third room and tending to his potion. Hermione trailed behind, not sure if she was allowed in.

"You can come in." Called George.

Inside were shelves and shelves of books. Two cauldrons were in the centre of the room with workbenches dotted around them. Propped on a stand next to George's cauldron was the book in which they hand wrote their own recipes- Hermione knew that from when she had to sneak it into school with her in her fifth year. Lying next to that, closed, was a little yellow notebook Hermione knew they noted observations in when they tested potions.

"It's done!" Confirmed George eagerly. He poured the potion into moulds similar to what one would store ice cubes in. He started to fill them up and place them on the workbenches to set.

"Do you need any help?" Hermione asked tentatively, teetering at the other end of the room watching him work.

"That would be great." Replied George. Normally he felt very uncomfortable when other people helped out with the shop, because it was always his and Fred's dream, not anyone else's. Since they had been running for a few years now, and they had needed to bring in staff from the beginning and Verity hadn't caused any trouble, he was a little more comfortable.

Hermione walked over, her hands trembling slightly, as she picked up a mould and proceeded to fill it. It wasn't a difficult task, so it wasn't long before mould trays were covering all the work benches and the window sills.

"I'll check on those in my lunch break, I don't want them to be too hard." He muttered.

"They look really good." Complimented Hermione, still a little in awe.

"Now let's open the shop." Said George, grinning at her as they headed back downstairs.


	8. Her little Paradise

**Hello again! This chapter is a little longer than usual, but the length of my chapters tends to fluctuate so don't get too excited! *sighs at the people capable of ****writing 5k+ words at a time***  


**Things are getting a little busier again, August is the worst month of the year for me stress wise. Sometimes writing helps, sometimes it just makes me feel even more worked up, so we'll just see how it goes. Then I'm back in college, so... be prepared. I've written a bunch of chapters already so even if I do get a writers block I can at least upload a few without actually having to write anything? Heh. **

**Hope you enjoy, thank you for the love, and I wrote a thing to celebrate Harry's birthday called 'Having Had Worse Birthdays' if you want to check that out. It's pretty self explanatory. **

**Okay, that's enough from me, ONWARDS!**

**~BH**

* * *

Her little Paradise

The next few weeks were very different for Hermione. After her accidental collision with Mrs Weasley she decided there was no point in her hiding upstairs anymore. Therefore Harry, Ron and Ginny ate breakfast with her downstairs. Then Harry and Ron left for work while Ginny side apparated Hermione to Diagon Alley. Hermione by now was insisting that she could do it herself but Ginny wasn't convinced. Hermione then left Ginny to work in the shop with George: Verity would stay up front, George would work on the tills or in his lab room and Hermione would drift near the back. Although it was busy, it wasn't packed now that students were in Hogwarts, so Hermione often had time to talk to George.

"What are you working on?" she asked, wandering over after refilling some shelves. George had his recipe book on the crowded desk and a stack of what looked like library books, due to the plastic covering.

"Are those library books?" she asked, astonished, picking up the book at the top of the pile and examining it. Sure enough, stamped on the inside was "Central London Library".

"Yes, they are." George answered. "Fred used to get them out because he liked reading those muggle stories you were so fascinated by." He sighed a little when mentioning his name and Hermione almost froze, but managed to compose herself before he noticed. "We found that muggle stories with magic in them help our research, especially when trying to appeal to muggle-born families."

Hermione couldn't help but smile. She thought of the times when Fred had helped her carry books in, and helped her find her favourites.

"_The books you want are always on the top shelf, aren't they?" _Fred would always laugh when Hermione indicated the book she wanted but could never quite reach. She point blank refused to summon it down, even after her 17th birthday. The slightly odd woman that used to run the library had died suddenly the year before Hermione went to Hogwarts, and even though she was almost certain she was a witch she was even more certain that the replacement librarian was a muggle. The new librarian reminded her of Harry's Aunt Petunia.

Her favourite memory of Fred in that library was when he managed to mispronounce "Diagon Alley" and wound up in the fireplace. She never found out how he got there and what he said instead of Diagon Alley, but that didn't matter now.

"Can you do me a favour and return these for me?" George jolted her out of her thoughts and memories, sorting out the pile into two smaller ones. He finished and handed the bigger one to Hermione. "Fred always knew exactly which ones to get, but I tend to get more out just in case… but you can only borrow ten at a time and I think that's ridiculous."

Hermione no longer struggled with heavy piles of books, but she still almost dropped them when she chortled at him. "Then people would lend the entire library!" she replied. "Then there would be no books to read!"

"That's true." Considered George, tilting his head to one side comically, his hair almost covering his face.

"Get going then," continued George, ushering her out. "Don't be long, then we can get ice cream for lunch."

Hermione nodded and hurried out of the shop, and ignored Verity who was watching their exchange suspiciously. _Wasn't she dating Fred?_ She thought as she sent skiving snack boxes flying to their shelves. She watched Hermione leave then turned to help a customer who had been trying to get her attention whilst she was daydreaming.

Hermione stepped out into the open air, glad that the long winding street was quiet and almost empty. She scurried along the road and slipped back into the Leaky Cauldron, where she managed to feebly wave to Hannah Abbott and Tom at the bar before exiting again through the door into the muggle world.

She followed the path she had always walked down as a child, forcing herself to look away from her family home, which resided next to The Leaky Cauldron. It hadn't changed, however it did look abandoned and a little grubby. She walked on.

In next to no time she was at the library, after passing the place where she first met Fred, the shop where she showed Arthur the rubber ducks and even the alleyway where she met Fenrir Greyback for the first time. Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the doors.  
Like her old house, the library hadn't changed that much either. The same librarian was there, and she widened her eyes as she saw Hermione enter for the first time in years. The layout of the library was the same too, so Hermione thought she might have some time to browse before returning to the shop. She knew the library like the back of her hand, she spent most of her summers there when she wasn't at the Burrow. Her parents never complained once she started Hogwarts: They knew when she returned that she had blossomed and finally made friends her own age.

She fished Fred's ID out of her pocket while trying to hold the books in one arm. She allowed herself a glance at his picture. It was taken quite a few years ago, his hair was shorter and there was still love in his eyes. Most people who had survived the war had lost that spark, that energy, to make them feel happy and whole. They were too scarred.

She composed herself, and then headed towards the counter. The successor of the old, nicer librarian wasn't as bad as she looked, and she was good at her job, but there was a no-nonsense air about her.

"Can I return these books for… a friend, please?" Asked Hermione quietly, piling the books in front of her and almost blocking her face.

The librarian didn't look best pleased by this request, as she reluctantly took them from her and piled them under her desk to be returned to their shelves.

"Fine." The librarian replied, scanning Fred's ID almost with disgust. "But you can't borrow any books without your own card."

"Thanks." Said Hermione politely, taking his ID from her and putting it back in her pocket, where hers also lay.

She went straight upstairs.

She didn't go to the top floor often. It was mainly filled with science fiction books and travel guides, but she was thinking of going to Australia soon, maybe for a few weeks, to find her parents. She wasn't to sure about it because she was scared that she would miss the moment when Fred woke up. She still had hope, and she wanted to be in the same country when it happened.

There was always time for research, however.

She found they were organised by country, so she selected a couple of books to take out later. She could always come back. It was then when she heard footsteps, and the voice of a teacher.

"Come along children! Lucy! Behave, stop pulling on Penny's hair!" she heard the teacher yell.

She groaned. This was the last thing she needed. Despite them being muggles, she couldn't handle being surrounded by hundreds of small children running around. She heard the children stop as the teacher explained what was on the very floor she wanted to escape. She backed away, wishing she could just blend into a shelf until she was finished. She hit the wall and sighed as she turned around, coming face to face with a majestic looking door. It reminded her of Hogwarts. Near the centre was a knocker on which a large owl was perched. She wasn't surprised to here it talk.

"I sense you seek refuge." The Owl spoke. The children hadn't noticed her yet, as they were still on the steps with their teacher, so she nodded quickly.

"Only the greatest of book lovers can enter within this chamber." The Owl continued, regarding her. "So you will be required to ask a simple question."

The owl reminded her of the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room.

"What did parchment replace and when was it created?"

Hermione racked her brains. She was certain she had read about this in "A History of Magic."

"Papyrus." She replied. "It started being used around the 3rd Century, BC." She recited, hurriedly.

The owl nodded, deeming her worthy, and the door opened quietly. She slipped through quickly, glad that her thinner figure was now more useful for escaping situations.

She had entered an identical building to the library she had just left. She stepped forward, noticing it was empty and abandoned. She scanned the shelves, and marvelled in delight when she saw that they were Wizard's books. Why had she never noticed these before?

The floor she was standing on was the Charms section. She thought about getting books for George, but she wanted to explore. She wondered if the ten book limit included wizarding books or would she need a different account? No one was here. Maybe she could just take them and give them back? She dismissed that option, for she had a great amount of respect for library books. She descended the stairs and found Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts. Most of the books looked like they had never been touched. She wondered if anyone else had found this place. She looked for a potion section, deciding that she might as well get some things for George, since she was taking much longer than just a quick return would take. She ran down the stairs, feeling giddy, like she was a little girl again.

The potions section was on the ground floor. She almost laughed. She could probably make any potion in the world from these books!

Then she froze.

Maybe, just maybe, there could be a potion that could revive Fred.

She spun on the spot, taking in all the possibilities that were available. She could research a potion, and then George could help her make it in his lab! She was sure he would help, and she knew he needed to have as much of an input if not more, to reviving Fred. It could be a coping method for both of them.

_Fred could revive Hermione and George like Hermione and George were reviving Fred._

They could all feel alive again.

She selected a few books front he shelf, and found a checkout desk identical to the one in the muggle library.

No one was there.

She approached it, and saw a note left on the desk.

_Welcome to the only Wizard library in London! _

_If you're lucky enough to find this place, please ensure you check out your books by signing your name on this form. When you return the books to the shelves your name will be removed and you can take out more. You can use your muggle account, and these books will be altered to become muggle books when you take them back through the library._

_Enjoy!_

Hermione noticed there was no signature. She wrote her name on the form, and ran back up the steps, several at a time, before checking out her muggle travel guides and returning to the shop.

"How long does it take to return books?" George raised his eyebrow upon her entrance. "It's too late for lunch now, Verity got me an ice cream instead."

"Is that all we are, fetchers of ice cream?" Hermione retorted, chuckling.

"Exactly." George grinned. "What have you got there?"

"Just books for me." She answered, hugging them to her chest along with her wonderful secret. Maybe one day she would tell George, but for now, it was her little paradise.


	9. She needed him

**I haven't been writing much lately, but I've got a bunch of chapters prepared from when I have been writing, so here you go. Another chapter. Yay?**

**Enjoy and whatnot, and I'll try and gain some motivation soon?**

**(PS: I have a poll on my bio which I would appreciate you all voting on)**

**~BH**

* * *

She needed him

Hermione spent most of that night reading.

She hadn't read anything in a while, especially magical books, and all the spells and the history reminded her of Hogwarts, and how she used to spend as much time as she could in the vast library.

Now she could still lend books without having to buy everything she wanted to read.

In Flourish and Blotts they started, thanks to Hermione's suggestion, a book hiring system. Instead of buying the book you could pay a little less to lend it for a certain amount of time. She thought it would be the closest to a magical library that she would ever get.

She supposed that if she ever went into teaching she could still read in the Hogwarts library, but she lacked the confidence to talk to a small group of people let alone a whole class.

She was improving. Every day she talked to more people, smiled a little more, and laughed a little more.

_Now I can make any potion I want_, she thought. She ran a hand through her hair, wondering if she could make her own hair potion to sort it out rather than buying an expensive bottle. She could also maybe make her own calming draught to help her cope more in social situations...

She flipped through the potions book in front of her, _1001 useful potions, _and continued to search for a calming draught. _That would be the most useful, _she thought.

Then she remembered her whole purpose of getting these books.

_Fred._

Was she forgetting him? Now she was more busy, he was still in her thoughts, but work and George, Harry, Ron and Ginny kept her occupied. She wondered if he would find it acceptable, and thought back to her discussion with George after she came from the library.

_"Do you think Fred would expect us to remember him every second of the day?" She had asked, drifting by the counter for the sixteenth time during that shift._

_"You talk about him like he's dead." Whispered George, containing his bitterness for Hermione's sake. No one would understand how he felt without Fred. It was like his left leg and his right arm were torn off. Not even Hermione could understand the bond that was on the verge of breaking._

_"He's alive. I'm certain." Stated Hermione, catching him off guard._

_"You're certain?" He replied, feel doubtful but hopeful. You couldn't question Hermione's intelligence, despite everything that had happened. _

_"Yes." She had answered firmly. She then went on to explain what had happened at the hospital with Fred. George listened, and nodded in the right places, deep in thought. _

_"I think I've felt that too..." George mused, not admitting that he had been holding his hand too, and had been almost on the verge of tears when seeing him lying there, motionless. George never cried in front of anyone, except maybe Fred. Fred was his only outlet._

_"I don't think he would kiss you though." Laughed Hermione, trying to lighten the mood and cheer George up. Was Fred subconsciously choosing Hermione over George?_

_"You'd be surprised. Anything can happen with a bit of fire whiskey." George winked at her, making her cringe when she remembered again how she tried to kiss him all those years ago. He was obviously remembering that too, and other events that Hermione was blissfully unaware of. She didn't want to know. _

_"How do you feel, George?" Hermione asked, noticing for the first time how he had dark circles under his eyes, similar to hers. His hair was messier than usual, and she noticed that his magenta robes had a golden F on the chest pocket rather than a G. She had been so absorbed in her own suffering that she hadn't even noticed how Fred's own twin was just as broken as she was._

_George stopped for a moment. Could he confide in Hermione? Would she truly understand? She looked accepting and non-judgemental._

_"I'm not okay." He said quietly, thankful that the shop was quiet. Business wasn't quite the same without Fred. _

_"It's okay to not be okay." Whispered Hermione, laying a hand on his arm that felt so much like Fred's. Hermione thought of how Harry never gave up on her, and how he had said everything would work out in the end. "As long as you know," she continued, "that everything will be okay in the end."_

_George relaxed at her touch, another thing that Fred also did, although Fred relaxed without hesitation. George was more reserved, as if he had more to hide. _

It was then that she knew, if she worked out how to revive Fred, she would promise to involve George. It wasn't an optional decision.

She needed George.

She pushed her hair out of her face as she focused all of her attention on the handwritten recipes in front of her.

Four pages in, she found something that could be the key to their healing. Scrawled at the top, as if it was rushed down in a flurry of excitement, was the word _Convivifico_.

Could this be it?

She scanned the ingredients, most of which she could probably buy in Diagon Alley. As she reached the bottom of the page that could save her life, she saw a tiny small-print at the bottom.

"May not work if they have been unconscious over a long period of time."

How long did they consider a long period of time? She thought of the muggle superhero, Captain America, who was frozen in ice for seventy years. The longest time anyone had been in a coma in the wizarding world was about 4 years, by a unknown man called Gerald Wilkins in the 1960s.

Despite all this, she knew this was her best shot.

She looked at her watch, a present from her parents from her 17th birthday. She had only recently had the courage to start wearing it again because it reminded her too much of her guilt. It was the last present she had ever received from them.

It was 3am. Was it too early to talk to George?

_She didn't care. _She thought, adrenaline pumping through her veins as she dressed hurriedly and pulled on some shoes. Grabbing her beaded bag and shoving in the book and some change she dashed out of her room, doing her best to remain quiet.

Outside, she ran into the village and luckily managed to get a taxi into London. She was still scared to apparate and she felt now wasn't the right time to try for the first time, so she ignored the confused expression of her driver and sat back, trying to control her excitement.

She couldn't stop running. She jumped out of the car with a hurried thank you and payment to the driver and weaved her way as quickly as she could through The Leaky Cauldron. She knew people had spotted her and would gossip about her night time activities but for the first time in her life she couldn't give a damn. She wondered how crazy they thought she was. On a par with Luna Lovegood? Probably not. She ran through the archway into Diagon Alley.

Hermione rushed round to the back of the store and up the steps to Fred and George's apartment. They had cast some repellant charms so only employees could see this entrance, and Hermione was grateful that no one could see her pounding against the door.

"Whaaaat?" Came the reply of a drowsy George, as he staggered to the door and fiddled with the lock. He opened it and almost fell over backwards to see an excited Hermione in the entrance.

He was dressed in nothing but a pair of pyjama bottoms, and it took all of Hermione's self control to not make a sound of satisfaction when she saw him. Like Fred, Quidditch had done him well over the years. However she couldn't help but noticed how his abs weren't quite as defined as Fred's, probably because he wasn't moving much lately out of grief. He still looked spectacular, and Hermione wasn't complaining at all at the sight. She really needed to stop comparing him to Fred. She tried to stop staring at his chest and looked up at his disgruntled expression instead, despite it being nowhere near as attractive. _Still quite cute, though._ She thought.

"S'abit early for your shift." George grumbled, not letting her in out of tiredness.

"George, listen!" Hermione almost squeaked, unable to hold it in any longer.

"Well, I'm up. You've got my undying attention." He said sarcastically, leaning against the doorway for support.

"I've found something to revive Fred." She said in a rush.

"We are not rubbing ourselves all over him to wake him up." Replied George, suddenly straightening up as if he hadn't been woken up in the early hours of the morning.

"Very funny, but he was never into threesomes." Hermione pulled out the almost sacred potions book and opened it up to the page she had marked. "_Convivifico. _It revives people who are in comas due to curses."

"Fred wasn't cursed though." George's shoulders drooped, his hopes crashing down. "A wall fell on him."

"It's not logical that he's still in a coma because of that." Hermione replied, fully alert despite her lack of sleep. "My parents were dentists, so they had connections to the local hospital if people had serious mouth problems, like tonsilitis. It's unlikely that he would be in a coma this long just from being crushed. His body wouldn't have had time to repair his injuries, he would have died instantly. After we left him someone must have immediately cursed him, so his body would have had time to heal but he still would be trapped, inside himself." Hermione knew the feeling all to well from his isolation, and George also knew how painful it was, due to his closed up emotions, especially of late.

"Let's do it then." Said George, surprising Hermione with his sudden confidence. "Let's do it now."

"Are you sure?" Asked Hermione, looking at his haggard features.

"I'm certain." He replied, mimicking Hermione's expression from earlier that day. He put an arm around her shoulders and led her inside.

"Come on, you must be freezing."

George had never appreciated Hermione more.


	10. Peppermint, Dittany and Pear Drops

**I'm going to sneak this chapter up while everyone's watching Doctor Who... Heh. **

**~BH**

* * *

Peppermint, Dittany and Pear Drops

Hermione was led by George into his and Fred's apartment, but not for the first time.

She remembered the first time vividly, she had finished her fifth year, and Harry hadn't yet arrived at the Burrow. Feeling extremely worried and panicked about her upcoming OWL results, she met up with Fred when he was working at the shop...

_"Hermione? Is that you?" Fred had asked, almost giddy with excitement. She saw George chuckling in the corner at how Fred's eyes lit up. _

_"No, it's Ron." She had replied, weaving her way through the crowd towards him._

_"Well Ron, being a girl definitely suits you. This is going to sound weird but you look exactly like my beautiful girlfriend!"_

_"What?" Hermione looked herself up and down in mock shock. "I must have made Polyjuice Potion instead of a gender changing solution!"_

_"Come on, let's change you back, I'm not one for threesomes, so I can't have two Hermiones." _

_He took her hand and she couldn't suppress the smile on her face, and watched George roll his eyes at her as they walked past him._

_Little did she know she was being led upstairs._

_It was a small but cosy set of rooms above the shop, the walls all gloriously clashed with the furniture in various shades of orange, green, blue and of course, Fred's favourite colour, magenta._

_"I don't think your red sofa goes with your bright pink wall behind it." Commented Hermione, giggling. She gazed around, absorbing the picture as if she was a sponge. _

_"It's magenta, how many times do I have to tell you?" Fred replied. _

_"Whatever you say." Said Hermione, grinning._

_A comfortable silence fell upon them, and that was all she needed to remember why she had come to Fred in the first place. All her worries about her exam results had come flooding back and the silence had allowed her fears to fill her brain. _

_"Are you okay?" He asked quietly, knowing the signs of her panic attacks from previous years._

_"I'm so scared Fred, these mean everything." Hermione immediately confided, her voice muffled by his quick but warm embrace._

_"I know they do." He replied, knowing if he told her to calm down it would just make things worse._

_"I really want to do well, because I'm not entirely sure what I want to do when I'm older, so I want to have good grades so I have more options, you know?"_

_"I understand." Replied Fred. "Until we had the idea about the joke shop, George and I didn't have a clue either. All we knew is that we would do something together. Then we got our exam results and we knew that it wasn't because we couldn't do anything academic, it was merely because we DIDN'T want to do anything academic." _

_He held her close, and their foreheads touched. Fred was bent over her and she loved the feeling of his soft hair tickling her forehead._

_"You have the power to do whatever you want to do with your life." He said quietly, wondering when he had gained so much wisdom about exams, since he never cared too much about them himself. "You just can't let a couple of letters on a sheet of parchment constantly dictate how you feel and how you live your life. I know they're important but I know you're a hard worker. You just need faith in yourself."_

_He closed the already minuscule gap between their lips and kissed her silently. Even though they had been dating for a while now, she still felt weak at the knees from his lips alone, so he picked her up and held her around the waist as she swung her legs around his hips._

_They had spent the afternoon watching the TV Harry and Hermione had bought and set up for them last Christmas, all exam results forgotten._

"Do you want a jumper or something?" Asked George, snapping her back into reality.

A reality without Fred.

"I'll be fine." Hermione replied, despite her shaking and chattering of teeth.

"I don't believe you, so I'm getting one anyway." Said George, throwing her a green hoodie of his.

"It must be weird not having a certain colour jumper anymore." Mused Hermione, thanking him before pulling it over her head. George had a different smell to Fred: Fred tended to smell of toffee and musky smoke whereas George smelled of peppermints. Mint toothpaste was one of her favourite scents, so she inhaled the smell deeply, sighing with slight happiness.

"It's great, yellow and blue were never our favourite colours anyway, but it was fine... What are you doing?" George trailed off, chuckling to himself as he watched her breathe in, and then smile to herself. That's kind of adorable, he thought.

Hermione, startled, pulled the hoodie down nervously and fished around in her beaded bag for the potions book.

"I just really like the smell of peppermint." She replied nervously, almost as if she was expecting him to shout at her.

"Well, that's good, because since Fred let some peppermint flavoured concoction in my room explode, I haven't been able to get it out of my clothes. I still don't know what he was trying to make in there."

Hermione remembered the peppermint daydream charms Fred had given her, exclusively for her, before the standard flavoured daydream charms. He had insisted that she never told George.

She just chuckled and shrugged her shoulders.

"So what do we need for this potion?" George asked, looking over Hermione's shoulder as she found the marked page. Like his clothes, he smelled of peppermint, but also of Dittany and Pear Drops.

"Uh…" Hermione started, trying to force herself to stop thinking about his wonderful aroma and the fact that he was still shirtless and standing very close to her.

"We need a crushed Beazor, plenty of Dittany, tears of a loved one…" Hermione read, ignoring her thoughts about George's chest.

"Tears of a loved one? That's pretty morbid if you ask me." muttered George in close proximity to her ear. She shivered, noting that his voice was very slightly deeper than Fred's.

Stop comparing George to Fred! She yelled to herself, hoping that her thoughts didn't show on her face.

George didn't notice.

"I guess the recipe is hinting that you really have to want them to come back to life if you make it, so people don't revive others willy nilly." reasoned Hermione, not looking up.

"Why are people still dying then?" questioned George, brushing a bare, toned arm against Hermione's shoulder as he ran a finger down the instructions, scanning them.

"Sometimes people die of natural causes, like old age. Sometimes it's wrong to force them back to life when it's their time to die, if you get me?" Hermione tried not to register the contact between them.

"I don't think it's a very well known potion either." Commented George.

Hermione smiled to herself, hugging to her the secret library. Had anyone ever used this potion before?

"Probably because it's so advanced." Dismissed Hermione. "I was thinking of buying the ingredients tomorrow and we can start after work?"

"Hermione!" Yelled George, astonished. "We can start now, we have no time to lose!" Hermione watched in horror at his crumpled face. A year of loss, pain and suffering were finally showing in his voice and appearance.

"I'm sorry George!" Hermione almost squeaked, quickly hugging him, before realising that was a bad move.

George felt comforted by his soft hoodie against his chest, and Hermione's face flushed as she rested her head against his very toned body. Her heart raced, which only reminded her of how Fred's heart raced at her touch.

Was this really so wrong? She thought.

"I didn't know you had the ingredients here." explained Hermione, pulling away.

"We have everything you could ever dream of." Replied George solemnly, his emotions fading away and the canvas of his face blank with feelings.

One day, someone will need to listen to him, and tell him he's not alone. She thought, watching and feeling slightly disappointed when George picked up a checked shirt lying on the arm of a chair and pulled it on, not bothering to button it up.

"Are you ready, partner?" He asked, feeling almost on air knowing that he was actually doing something about the problem that was constantly bringing him down these days.

"Of course I am." Replied Hermione.

It'll be another little while, but we will get you back, Fred. She thought as George led her again through the house to his lab.


	11. Was This Really So Wrong?

**I started college last week, and I've been having a minor existential crisis, so prepare for long breaks between chapters.**

**In the meantime, I literally started a blog 5 minutes ago (bryonyhoneysuckle dot wordpress dot com) in which... I haven't really decided yet. I just want to write things.**

**Once again, thank you for all your support and whatnot, this has turned out to be a lot longer than I originally intended. When I planned it it was about 13 chapters long and I'm currently on eleven and I haven't even hit the halfway point in the plot yet. Gahhh. We could be here a while.**

**ONWARDS.**

**~BH**

* * *

Was this really so wrong?

By about 6am, they had prepared most of the ingredients and organised a timetable in which one could tend the potion while the other worked in the shop. They also agreed not to tell Verity, because she would only get upset that she wasn't involved and they didn't want to lift the hopes up of too many people. Verity would only tell everything to everyone she knew, and she knew a lot of people.

The media was already picking up on the fact that George and Hermione were spending more time together. Some people thought it was her and Fred, many thought that she had moved on to George because, well, they were twins, so they were essentially the same person, right?

Hermione groaned as an owl carrying today's Daily Prophet soared through the window, with exclusive pictures of George and Hermione getting ice cream spattered across the front. It read _"Fresh start: Fresh twin?"_ Making Hermione glare at it in disgust.

"Have we hit the front page again?" Asked George, placing his hands on her shoulders to steady her angry shaking as she furiously read through the article.

"What really annoys me is they just think that I think you and Fred are the same person!" Burst out Hermione, throwing the paper onto the workbench with surprising force. "You and Fred are two different people! I'm not just some sort of Weasley collector!"

George burst out laughing, which only made Hermione more angry. "Well you've only had two of the six, not counting Ginny, so I wouldn't say you're officially a "collector" yet." He spoke between snorts of laughter.

"Alright." Replied Hermione, her anger simmering slightly at George's indifferent reaction. "But it's still not okay for them to think you and Fred are just twins and not different people!"

"We're used to it." Shrugged George, no longer laughing. "Even Mum can't always tell us apart so we gave up. Most potential girlfriends don't care which twin they get anyway, sometimes if we both like the girl we pretend we're the same twin so we both get the action. There's no point worrying over it." He glanced at Hermione's horrified expression. He was touched that the real reason she was upset was about him and Fred and not that the media thought they were a couple. He enjoyed spending time with her, and he didn't want the Daily Prophet to jeopardise their friendship.

They needed each other.

"That's awful, people should KNOW the differences between you both, especially your family!" Hermione told him, trying to resist commenting on the fact about them both using the same girl.

"Do you?" Asked George, not sure whether to be surprised or not when she nodded. She was intelligent, sure, but him and Fred were identical twins after all.

"You have different scents, different favourite colours, you are much more reserved, but you are also more likely to murder someone if you needed to..."

She continued listing as George listened with curiosity. How did she know all these things about them? Fred and George were pretty open people, but they still tended to keep to themselves when they were upset or angry. George always thought that Hermione only paid attention to Fred, for it was Fred that bumped into her in the first place. Fred that told her who she truly was. Fred who guided her through the wizarding world. Fred who defended her. Fred who truly loved her with all his heart. He was just on the sidelines, watching. He yearned for the relationship that they had, they were more than compatible. Why did he feel like this?

Hermione finished with triumph, yawning a little. George applauded and she took a bow, both of them laughing.

_Was this really so wrong? _He thought.

Hermione returned her thoughts to the potions book, frowning at the bottom of the page.

"Is something wrong?" George asked, worrying a little. Had they used the wrong ingredients?

"There's something written at the bottom of the page in another language." Hermione muttered to herself.

George moved towards her, and once again she felt his breath tickle her ear. He peered over her shoulder at the writing.

"Bydd y dracht yn cymryd o leiaf deuddeg awr i weithio heb ots faint mor hir mae'r person wedi bod yn ddiarwybod." Hermione attempted to read. "I've never seen anything like it."

George read it himself. It sounded familiar...

"It's welsh." Confirmed George, proud of himself.

_Of course_, thought Hermione. _Wales._ _Of all places, the one that nobody knows about._

"How could you tell?" Asked Hermione, vaguely remembering going on holiday there once when she was little with her parents.

"There was a girl in Ravenclaw in my year who I was good friends with, she's welsh… her name was Megan?" George replied, recalling his Hogwarts years that he'd tried to repress since Fred's accident.

"Could you ask her what it means?" asked Hermione, hoping she was still in contact with her.

"She always said welsh was a dying language, it probably doesn't mean anything important." Dismissed George quickly. "She never spoke welsh, she said only the minority actually speak the language."

Hermione sighed, hoping he was right.

"As long as it's not something that could hurt him." She said, putting the book down.

"It's probably saying 'Don't shag any sheep' or something stupid like that, don't worry about it." Reassured George, putting a hand on hers and tracing it with his thumb. "We can do this."

"Okay." Confirmed Hermione.

"Can we also do breakfast though?" Asked George. Hermione laughed, marvelling at George's ability to make a joke of any serious situation.

"Sure, I could do with a bagel." She answered as George steered her out of the room.

"We're not just getting any old breakfast," He told her as they left the lab and returned to the flat. "We're having an all-nighter-I'm-exhausted-celebratory-breakfast!" He opened the door to his kitchen and flicked his wand in the general direction of the cooker, sending bacon flying into a frying pan.

Hermione hadn't really noticed how tired she felt until George mentioned it. She had been so wrapped up in starting the potion and Fred possibly recovering and George's attractiveness that she'd forgotten about the wave of exhaustion which was now fully crashing into the shore of her brain, as if it was truly high tide.

They were just wolfing down food when they heard a loud knock on the door.

"I'll get it." they both said blearily as they staggered towards the door, not unlike George 5 hours earlier.

It was Verity.

She was about to berate George for being late to open up and leaving her alone on the shop floor when she noticed Hermione standing a little behind him. Her mouth formed a perfect 'o' shape as she took in their messy hair, Hermione's clothes, their tired expressions.

George heard voices downstairs, which worried him. Verity didn't have a key, how could she open up with a key that was in his pocket? He felt his pocket quickly, it was still there.

"What in the name of Merlin's smelliest socks…" she gasped, as if she had barely any air inside her to talk properly.

"It's not what it looks like." Said George quickly, realising they couldn't have walked into a worse situation if they'd tried. Hermione was starting to panic, and wished Harry's invisibility cloak was nearby.

"Tell your family that." She replied laughing, raising an eyebrow and leaving them in shock in the doorway.


	12. Feeling Fine

**Still busy. Still tired. Not forgotten. Hang in there**

**~BH**

* * *

Feeling Fine

"Family?" George asked, his face white. He turned to Hermione, who looked even paler, if that was possible. Every Weasley feared the matriarch and her over-protective nature, and her wrath. When angry, she was like a real life howler, and they were feared more than anything.

"They probably found my empty bed..." She whispered, feeling guilty. "I'm so sorry! I'll go down and explain, I'll... I'll..." She started stammering and shaking, her self esteem having not fully returned.

"Hermione!" George whispered back, folding her into his arms quickly. All she could feel was his bare chest and his still open shirt.

"Oh bloody hell." He muttered to himself, looking down at his chest and hurriedly buttoning up. "Come on, let's ease their minds." He took her hand and squeezed it, before letting it go quickly, realising that If they saw them holding hands it would make things worse for them.

Together they quickly dashed down the stairs, and Hermione almost went flying into Mrs Weasley. She instantly gave her a motherly embrace and glared at George.

"Hermione dear! When we found you out of your bed... Harry insisted you'd gone for a walk but when you weren't downstairs for breakfast... Then we saw the Daily Prophet... GEORGE! What would Fred say if he saw these?! You know how much he cared for her!"

George froze at the mention of Fred's name. The silence dragged for more than minutes, as George stood there, trying to form the sentences from thoughts that had been buried in his mind for years.

"It doesn't matter about me, does it?" Said George, his voice dripping with ice. "It was always about Fred and Hermione. They were your golden couple, and even when they weren't together, it was all about how precious their friendship was!" His voice was getting louder and angrier, and Hermione could tell he had been bottling this up.

"Georgie..." Mrs Weasley tried to interrupt.

"Don't Georgie me," he growled. "It was always Freddie, if anything! We were never treated like the rest of your children were! We were always the next door neighbours compared to Bill your head boy, Charlie the Quidditch Captain, Percy the golden child, Ronnie the best friend of Harry, and of course Ginny your little girl. Fred was only mentioned when Hermione was in the picture! I know more than anyone how much they care for each-other, so if you want to believe a STUPID article who doesn't give a DAMN about us either, then you can get the fresh hell OUT OF OUR STORE!"

He exhaled heavily, and swatted Hermione's outstretched hand away. She was stood half way between him and an almost crying Mrs Weasley. Ginny moved forward, pulling Mrs Weasley away.

"He needed to let that out." She told her mother, mimicking Hermione's thoughts. "You can apologise later."

Mrs Weasley stopped in her tracks.

"Apologise? APOLOGISE?!" She bellowed at Ginny. Hermione had moved to stand next to George, and he shakily smiled at her, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

"You could have talked to me." She whispered.

"I'm sorry." He replied.

"Well yes," continued Ginny, since nobody heard George and Hermione's exchange. "You have always treated them like second best compared to the rest of us."

"I would never dream of doing that!" She squeaked. Hermione was glad they hadn't opened the shop yet. Harry had taken it upon himself to get out of the argument and fill Verity in, who had been watching the argument and looking bewildered and confused. Verity sighed and nodded in response to Harry as she drifted away from them.

"Bloody hell." Murmured Ron, making Hermione giggle, since she'd heard him say that so many times over so many years. He caught her eye and grinned back, making her feel a little uneasy.

"You've gone and really upset George now." Replied Ginny to Mrs Weasley with a condescending tone to her voice. "Come on, let's go."

With a lot of force Ginny steered her mother from the shop, Harry and Ron trailing in their wake.

"I'm sorry for misunderstanding." Verity said to George, returning to her coworkers after a long and awkward silence.

"It's fine, you didn't know. Nobody knew." Replied George, sinking onto a stool at the desk. He looked exhausted, not for the first time, since they'd abandoned their breakfast and he hadn't had the chance to make coffee.

"Come on," Hermione beckoned to Verity. "You make yourself some coffee and Verity and I will open up."

"It's about time she had her own key." George replied, slurring slightly out of exhaustion. He handed Verity the key and slumped upstairs.

"Are you not tired too?" Verity asked with concern as they trooped to the entrance, where a few customers were waiting with confusion.

"I'm fine." Said Hermione shortly. She'd deal with her sleepiness later. After many sleepless nights alone in her room, she'd adjusted to feeling half asleep. George, however, was always full of life and energy. He'd always needed to be. Hermione never realised. She'd only ever thought about herself, or Fred.

"What I want to know is why do you use a key when you have so many magical means of locking a door?" She asked, perking her voice up so she sounded almost unnaturally awake.

"It's what Fred wanted, apparently." Verity shrugged, turning the key in the lock. "He said it wouldn't be what people would expect it when breaking in. Also it's not just a normal muggle key."

She didn't explain anything any further as customers trickled in and she turned to attend them. Hermione mimicked her questions and expressions, not used to this after weeks of hanging around George's desk and rarely talking to customers. They were mostly regulars at this time of year, who knew exactly what they needed and only needed to talk to George to pay, or place an order. However, these customers seemed more interested in her than the products, after hearing that she was working here and not seeing her. She managed to excuse herself and almost ran back to the safety of the back of the shop. George was back on his stool, looking much more and sipping a coffee from a travel mug.

"I brought you guys drinks too. I was going to send paper aeroplanes to you but you're here, so one less to send for me!" He said in greeting, folding a piece of paper expertly, scribbling _"There's a drink waiting for you at the desk when you're not busy.". _He labelled it with Verity's name and lobbed it in her general direction.

"How do you know she's going to get it?" Asked Hermione, looking doubtfully at the green aeroplane flying towards the front of the shop.

"Because they're designed to fly to the recipient. Fred and I made our own inspired by those things from the Ministry. Ours are cooler because they are colour coded depending on the sender." George explained, showing her a wad of bright green paper. "I'm Green. Fred's pin-MAGENTA." He rolled his eyes, mimicking Fred's voice. "Verity is purple. What colour do you want?"

"Red?" Suggested Hermione. George nodded in approval, waving his wand at a small pile of his own brightly coloured paper as it suddenly turned scarlet. He also handed her a travel mug of coffee, and she sipped it gratefully.

"Shouldn't you be helping Verity?" He asked her, raising an eyebrow, now fully awake and aware that Hermione was slacking.

"All they seem to care about is the Daily Prophet article." Said Hermione, taking a sip from her cup. "They won't listen to me tell them about products, all they want to know is if I'm truly a Weasley collector."

"That problem can be easily solved." Replied George, rummaging around under his desk for his wand, extracting it under a pile of papers. "I usually keep this out of the way when I'm working, because I get distracted. But still. _Sonorus._"

His voice was suddenly loud enough for everyone to hear him in the shop.

"Hello, George here." He greeted, realising that it was obvious it was him for Fred was still unconscious. Customers snapped their heads towards the back, startled. Regulars who came in often continued browsing, used to random announcements. Verity jumped a little, slightly irked by the introduction.

"If you are only here to hear about Hermione's relationship status, then you're in the wrong place. Although I would like to clarify that Hermione and I are not together, for my twin is still alive, and she does not deserve to be constantly bombarded with questions. On a lighter note, Skiving Snack Boxes are on offer: buy one get one free! Recommend one to a friend in need! Thank you."

He whispered the counter charm, winking at Hermione as a few customers reluctantly left the store.

"Weasley Collector." He chuckled to himself, only semi-aware that Hermione was in earshot.

"Thanks." Said Hermione, ignoring his mumbles. "Are you okay?" She hadn't forgotten his outburst earlier, and neither had he.

"I'm always just fine." George smiled, not quite meeting her eye.

"I understand you won't always want to confide in someone." Said Hermione, knowing from experience. "But when you need to, and you will know when you need to, I'm here." She quickly embraced him, not being able to help being drawn to him for hugs. "We will get through this together." She whispered as they pulled apart.

"You know, you're really not helping yourselves." Interrupted Verity, picking up her drink from the counter and sauntering off, leaving Hermione and George looking incredibly flustered.


End file.
